


Loving The Alien

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-27
Updated: 2006-03-27
Packaged: 2018-08-16 07:31:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8093500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: A Vulcan survives on his own on an alien world. Mestral/Maggie (m/f). Postep, 2.02 "Carbon Creek." (10/2002)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

Journal Entryâ€”July 20, 1969...

Today, I sat here with my wife, and watched an amazing event unfoldâ€”humans making their first real inroads into space exploration.

Having come from a space faring world, I should have found these small steps rather pedestrian, but I did not. I was as caught up in the excitement of the landing of the lunar moduleâ€”"Eagle"â€”as the rest of my family. When Neil Armstrong stepped onto the surface of the moon, I was reminded of my own first flight, and the mission twelve years ago, which brought me here.

I've never been much good at mastery of my emotions, and in my time here with Maggie, I have lost even more of my discipline. Needless to say, as I watched Buzz Aldrin join Armstrong on the moon, Maggie turned to me, and asked if I had any regrets. Her question puzzled me, and I asked her to clarify.

She reached up to wipe a tear from my eye, and asked if I were feeling homesick...if I regretted remaining behind when my companions were rescued. Obviously, she had misinterpreted my lack of emotional control. I pulled her close, and assured her that _that_ was the farthest thing from my mind. My emotionalism had far more to do with the rapid progress of the human race, and the pleasure I experienced over witnessing it first hand.

She did not at first understand what I meant...to her, it seemed like an eternity had passed between the launch of Sputnik, and today's landing on the moon. But as I explained to her, similar advancement on my world had taken far longer...for the most part due to our overemphasis on caution.

When I mentioned my people, Maggie looked up, as if she could search the sky right through the roof of the house, and asked if I thought they were up there, watching. There was no doubt in my mind that they were, and that they would continue to do so for many years to come.

Once again, Maggie surprised me with her total acceptance of the knowledge I had shared with her about my people...just as she had accepted the truth all those years ago, when I returned to Carbon Creek, seeking her assistance.

Now, as I sit here on the porch, looking up at the stars as I write in my journal, I can sense her waiting for me in our bed...instantly, my mind returns to that day, nearly nine years ago now, when I knew I had to be honest with herâ€”and trust her with my very lifeâ€”if I were to survive on this world.

* * *

His bags were packed, and he was prepared to head out on the road in the morning. The only thing left to do was take his leave of Maggie.

It had been two days since the others had left. Yesterday, he had gone to where their ship had crashed, and was not really surprised to see no trace of it. How this was managed, he had no idea. The fact that it had been done was all that mattered to him.

He lay down, but sleep eluded him...a question T'Mir asked kept repeating itself in his mind. "Do you stay for her?" she had asked, and he had simply said, "No." And in truth, he had not even thought about it...that is, until after T'Mir asked.

Suddenly, his ability to reason this out logically seemed to elude him. His decision to remain on Earth had been a simple one...how better to observe than from within? T'Mir had even given him a recoding device that she would be able to access the next time she was in orbit...this way, any information he gathered would be useful to the project, and not just himself.

Of course, he would need to move around frequently, so as not to arouse the suspicions of those he came into contact with...but that would simply give him greater opportunities to make his observations. The search for knowledge was what he lived for, after all.

He had not anticipated Maggie, however. It was obvious, even to him, that she was developing feelings for him...and although a part of him found the opportunity for intimate knowledge quite fascinating, the logical part of him knew that it could never be. She was too observant to be allowed any closer than she already was...if he remained here, she would eventually learn his secret.

Hours passed, and soon it was dawn. Mestral dressed, and made his way to the diner, as he did every morning. Maggie was there, as he knew she would be. She had gotten to know him quite well in the time he had been here, and had his toast and tea ready for him as he sat down. "Thank you," he said, then added, "when you have a moment, I need to speak with you."

Maggie looked around the diner, and said, "I've only got a couple more orders to fill, then I'll be back." She gave him a smile as the bell from the kitchen announced another order was ready for delivery.

Mestral had finished his toast, and nearly all of the tea when she returnedâ€”a fresh tea bag and pot of hot water in hand. "Looks like a bit of a lull before the next round gets here. So, what can I do for you, Mestral?" she asked, as she sat opposite him, and poured the hot water into his empty cup.

It is time for me to move on," he said without preamble.

Obviously, that was not what Maggie had been expecting. "What?" she asked, then quickly added, "but I thought...when your associates left..." she hesitated, suddenly thinking she had read too much into his decision to stay behind when the others left.

"My path no longer joins with theirs...I must find my own way, now. I can no more stay here than I could return with them." He noticed the moisture forming in the corners of her eyes, and realized that his words had been far more blunt than he intended. 'All the more reason to leave now', he thought, as he took hold of her hand and sensed the emotional attachment she had for him. "Forgive me," he said. "I should have been more clear as to my situation, in regards to my associates, and our divergent paths."

"No," she said, pulling her hand away from his, "you owe me no explanations. It's just that I have enjoyed your company these past few months, and hoped that..." but she said no more. She stood, noticing a group of people enter the diner, and said, "I have to get back to work. When do you leave?"

"As soon as I gather my belongings," he said.

"Then this is goodbye?" She tried hard to keep the tears at bay, but it was difficult.

"Yes," he said quietly. He stood, and placed the money for his breakfast on the table, saying, "Thank you for your hospitality."

He left, without looking back.

* * *

He had gotten all the way to the house he had been staying in when he heard her call out, "Mestral." He turned, as he stepped through the door, and saw here running across the street. She stopped just outside his door, asking, "Will I ever see you again?"

Suddenly, the notion of seeing her again seemed like a good one to him. With a slight smile, he said, "That is always a possibility," then, remembering something he had seen in a television program, he continued, "I will write, if you would like."

She visibly brightened, saying, "Oh, yes...that would be very nice." She pulled her order pad from her pocket, and tore off a page. Turning it over, she wrote her name and address on it, and handed it to him. "Safe journey...and if you ever find yourself in need of a friend, I hope you will come and see me."

He took the paper from her, and said, "I do not know exactly where I am going, but I will write you when I get there."

On impulse, Maggie stepped forward and hugged him. Mestral was caught by surprise, not only by the hug, but his reaction to it. Awkwardly, his arms held her...reluctantly, he let her go.

He stood there in his doorway for some time, watching her walk away...knowing now, more than ever, that he must leave. To stay would certainly lead to discovery, and discovery could only lead to fear.

* * *

As the months passed, quickly adding up to years, Mestral moved from town to town, observing the customs of those he encountered. He spent a great deal of his time in Librariesâ€”reading books and magazines; newspapers and journalsâ€”observing the latest trends in scientific matters, and space exploration.

He noticed a rather unusual phenomena where the 'space race', as it was want to be called, was concerned. He found it rather ironic that these people, be they American or Russian, would spend so much time trying to get into space, yet refute the existence of life from outside of their solar system. The sheer number of UFO sightings (which he had discovered the crash of his own ship had been registered as) should be proof that there is life elsewhere, yet no one believed any of them were actually alien beings trying to make contact. Whenever the theoretical prospect was brought up, there was always a 'logical' explanation for what had been seen.

Mestral often wondered what would happen if his true identity were discovered, either by accident or choice. There were even times when he contemplated stepping forward as proof of life elsewhere. But then he would see the violence against those who are different than the 'norm'...their only difference being skin color or nation of origin...and decide this is not the time for such revelations.

He longed for someone to talk to...

...someone to share his observations with...

...someone to ease his isolation.

He wrote faithfully to Maggie, and she to him, but it was not the same as having a knowing confidant. He was also aware of a growing need...one he had not considered when he decided to remain on Earth nearly three years before. Surely, with the announcement of his 'death' when T'Mir and Stron were rescued, his mate had been released from her obligation to him. And even if she had not been, there was no way of getting back to her.

He would have to find another solution...or die here on this alien world.

* * *

Maggie had been surprised by Mestral's last letter...especially the part where it said he would be arriving in Carbon Creek on the 10th. Since she received the letter on the 9th, there was virtually no time to prepare for his return. She did, however, manage to get some time off from the diner, as he asked.

There was something about the tone of the letter that bothered her...his words and phrases seemed rather disjointed, as if he were nervous. Other than that, she had been unable to ascertain much of his intent from his words. Obviously, he was returning, and apparently, he needed her help. The only other thing he said of any consequence was for her to keep an open mind, and trust him.

She had always prided herself on her open-mindedness, and as far as trust went, well, that was easy, too...especially where he was concerned. She just hoped he wasn't in any danger...

As she thought this, the bus pulled up, opening its door. Several people stepped off, looking tired from their journey. At first, she was worried that Mestral had somehow missed this bus, for she didn't see him, but then a familiar knit cap caught her eye. She gasped slightly when he looked up and caught her eye...he appeared ill-at-ease, nervous and lost. When he recognized her, she actually saw him sigh, as if he had feared she would not be there.

He picked up his bag, and quickly crossed the space between them. Maggie opened her arms to offer a hug, but he said, "Not here...I need...privacy." He knew that to touch her would be his undoing...he had to tell her the truth before he let that happen. Then, it would be her choice.

Trusting him as he asked, she briskly walked to her car...he followed. The trip to her house was a short one, made in silence. She could sense the tension pouring off of him, and even noticed him trembling slightly out of the corner of her eye. He spent the entire drive staring out the window, never once giving her a second look.

When they arrived, Maggie got out of the car, but Mestral made no move to do so. She called out to him, and he jumped, opened the door and walked to the house. Once inside, he dropped his bag, and sat on her sofa. "Can I get you something to drink, Mestral?" Maggie asked, concerned over his odd behavior.

He shook his head, then thought better of it, and said, "Water, please." When she returned from the kitchen with two water glasses, she noticed he had removed his jacket, and was sitting once again on the sofa. As she handed one to him, she saw his hand shaking as he took it from her.

"You're ill!" she exclaimed, for the first time noticing that he was also sweating. Now, if it were the middle of summer, this would not be unusual, but it was November. "Let me call a doctor," She said, but he grabbed her wrist to prevent her from walking away.

"No...no doctor." His voice was weak, but not his grip on her wrist. Realizing what he had done, he quickly let go, but not before she gave a small yelp. As she rubbed her wrist, he said, "Forgive me, I did not intend to injure you." He looked into her eyes, and continued, "I am not ill, per se, but I am in need of help. It is a rather delicate situation..." he paused. He had rehearsed this speech over and over in his mind, but the words were no longer there. He could feel the Plak Tow slowly overtaking him, robbing him of his intellect and reason.

"There is something I need to tell you about myself, which you might find difficult to accept. If at any time you decide you are uncomfortable with me, please say so, and I will leave. I do not want you entering into anything against your will."

"I will...although I can't imagine ever telling you to leave." Maggie said, as she sat in the chair that stood at an angle beside the sofa. She took a sip of her water, then sat the glass on the table. "What's wrong? I'll do whatever I can to help you, you know."

"Please don't promise anything until I tell you the whole story." He took a drink, then said, "Do you recall asking me about the hat...wanting me to take it off?"

"Well, yes, but what does that have to do with anything?" Maggie asked, truly puzzled by the question.

"A great deal, actually." He took another drink of the water, then stood up and started to pace, as he continued, "Forgive me, there is no easy way for me to say what I must..." and as he turned to face her, he reached up and removed the hat.

To her credit, she did not scream. She did open her mouth several times, as if to say something, only to shut it again and stare. The silence lingered, but eventually, she asked, "What happened to your ears?"

Mestral sighed. Obviously, she did not realize the truth behind his exposing himself. "Nothing happened to them...I was born this way, as are all my people." he allowed this small bit of information to sink in before continuing, "In 1957, when the Sputnik satellite was launched, my associates and I were orbiting your world, observing...we had a malfunction, and crashed. Our captain was killed in the crash, and T'Mir, Stron and I found our way to your town, where we awaited rescue."

* * *

Mestral told her of his people, and their long history of space exploration. He told her of his life, and the events that led to his decision to stay behind when the others left.

And eventually, he told her of his current condition.

He did not wish to scare her away, but having never experienced Pon Farr before, he was not entirely sure what to expect...all he knew was that he was being driven to mate, and if she were unwilling to join with him, he would undoubtedly die. After explaining all he could, he added, "I do not ask this lightly, and I will understand if you do not wish to take part in this..." he hesitated slightly, looking for the right words to use. Finally, he said, "I believe the appropriate phrase to use at this time would be 'I love you'...but I...do not know what 'love' is...however, I do know that I...value you as a friend."

There were tears in Maggie's eyes as she listened to his words. As he had been talking, she had obediently kept her distance, but now, she slid to the floor to kneel at his feet, placed her hands on his knees, and looked up into his face as she said, "Sometimes, it is far better to have a friend than a lover...and I hope that you will be both to me."

He sighed at her touch, and closed his eyes as he asked one last time, "But what about this madness?"

"It sounds no worse than the 'madness' most men suffer from on a daily basis...and I am not an innocent child." She smiled as she said this, and was relieved to see him relax just a bit. She stood, took him by the hands, and gently pulled him to his feet.

* * *

Nine years have passed since that fateful day, and although we have not been blessed with a childâ€”if that is even possibleâ€”Maggie _has_ taught me the meaning of 'love'...yet it is still her friendship that I value most of all.


End file.
